"Michael, we need to make some trades. You on board with that?" Krause got straight to the point.
"Yeah, I'm with you on that," Jordan nodded.
"But Pippen and Coach Phil Jackson are off-limits. They've built a dynasty with me—you can't just cut them loose," he added firmly.
Krause nodded, trying to keep Jordan calm.
"Have you really broken down why we lost the Eastern Conference Finals?"
Jordan stayed silent.
He knew the answer but didn't want to say it out loud.
Pippen got cooked by Zhao Dong—both offensively and defensively—at the small forward spot.
"Michael, we need a stronger small forward, but Pippen can't come off the bench—he'd never accept it.
That leaves us with one option: trade him.
And honestly, if we don't move him, we don't have the trade assets to make the upgrades we need," Krause explained.
"If you trade Pippen, who's gonna run the offense?" Jordan shot back coldly.
"But he didn't do much organizing in the Eastern Conference Finals," Krause countered.
Jordan clenched his jaw but didn't argue.
Krause pressed on.
"Our one goal is to beat the Knicks.
And let's be real—Pippen has proven he can't handle Zhao Dong.
You really wanna run it back next season just to lose to that Golden Tyrant again?"
Jordan's fists clenched under the table.
For the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of powerlessness.
Getting outplayed by Zhao Dong still stung, and the memory of his trash talk was even worse.
"Go on," Jordan said flatly, unable to hide his frustration.
Krause smirked.
That reaction meant Jordan wasn't opposed to trading Pippen—a major win for him.
"Look, Phil Jackson's system used Pippen as the main playmaker. It worked for a while, but there's no one in the league who can match Zhao Dong's level at small forward.
So here's the play:
We shift the playmaking back to the point guard.
That way, Zhao Dong can't camp out and disrupt our entire offense.
If we move the ball through a top-tier PG, he can't defend the whole floor, right?"
Jordan rubbed his chin.
The plan made sense.
There were hardly any playmaking small forwards in the league, aside from Pippen and Zhao Dong.
So why not just grab an elite point guard and solve the problem that way?
Seeing Jordan's interest, Krause leaned in.
"One more thing, Mike.
Jackson's triangle offense got exposed—it didn't work against the Knicks.
You didn't get enough one-on-one opportunities.
That's why I'm thinking of cleaning the house.
His tactics are holding you back," Krause said.
But Jordan's eyes narrowed.
He wasn't having it.
"I trust Phil.
He built this dynasty with us.
We didn't lose because of coaching—we lost because of our roster.
Don't touch Phil," he warned coldly.
Krause didn't push.
In fact, he was pleased.
Jordan's refusal to let go of Phil Jackson meant Pippen was the sacrificial lamb.
That was half the battle won.
"Michael," Krause tried again, "I'm just saying the truth.
If Phil could solve these problems, you'd be dropping 50+ a night in the playoffs.
You could be even greater."
"No, no, no," Jordan shook his head.
"We lost because of the roster, not the coach," he insisted.
But Krause kept at it.
"Mike, you've gotta trust me.
I brought Phil in—I believed in him.
But he's stuck now.
He can't keep up with the league.
The Knicks exposed him.
He's clinging to the triangle offense, but that's all he knows.
If you stick with him, you're wasting your prime.
You're 34, man.
Don't let these last golden years slip away."
Jordan's expression hardened.
He didn't want to admit it, but Krause was right about one thing—time wasn't on his side.
Even though he dominated the Eastern Conference Finals, he could feel the wear and tear.
He wasn't sure how many more seasons he had left at this level.
After a two-hour meeting, they ended the conversation.
Both had different motives.
Jordan wanted Krause's help to upgrade the roster.
Krause wanted Jordan's support to clean house without losing the locker room.
While Jordan wouldn't let him touch Phil Jackson,
his willingness to trade Pippen meant Krause had won.
---
That evening, Zhao Dong returned to the hotel.
"Congratulations, host!
You've completed the Dynasty-level sniping mission against the God of Basketball.
You can now choose one of Jordan's basketball skills,
Upgrade one of your own skills to the max level, and boost one physical attribute to level 100—beyond human limits."
"Hell yeah!"
Zhao Dong grinned, already weighing his options.
The Jazz were up next in the Finals—he needed to strategize carefully.
"Wait, let me check the Finals mission first," he muttered.
---
Finals Sniper Mission:
Lead the team to beat the Jazz (singlehandedly).
Win the NBA championship for the 1996-97 season.
Secure the Finals MVP.
Mission rewards:
Upgrade one physical trait to level 100.
Receive a pair of never-worn basketball shoes and 8,200 patented shoe tech materials.
"Holy shit!"
Zhao Dong's eyes widened.
"That's not just money—that's a goldmine."
The shoe tech patents were perfect timing—he was already planning to launch his own sports brand.
But then he noticed the "single core" condition.
His eyes narrowed.
"Wait... does that mean Ewing is gonna flop in the Finals?
Or worse—get injured?"
A bad feeling crept into his gut.
But he shook it off and focused on the rewards.
"System, I'm upgrading my injury resistance to level 100," Zhao Dong decided.
That trait was crucial—injuries were an athlete's worst enemy.
Going max-level on it was a no-brainer.
Once the upgrade was complete, Zhao Dong didn't feel any different.
He asked,
"Hey system, how does my injury resistance stack up against Karl Malone?"
The system replied,
"Host, you've broken through human limits, but Karl Malone's durability is... not human."
"Damn!"
Zhao Dong whistled.
Now, it was time to choose one of Jordan's skills.
Fadeaway jumper?
Turnaround fade?
Step-back jumper?
He mulled it over.
"If I take the fadeaway, my core strength is only at level 91—I won't reach Jordan's peak performance.
But I need it to handle double-teams in the Finals."
In the end, he played it smart.
He maxed out his own turnaround fadeaway first.
Upgrading his foundation would give him more control and consistency on offense.
Finally, he turned to the system and asked,
"Hey, if I upgrade my turnaround fadeaway, will it hit level 100 instantly?"
Zhao Dong frowned. "No, the host can wait until the relevant qualities meet the standards before upgrading," the system replied.
"What are the relevant qualities? How high do they need to be?" he asked.
"Both flexibility and balance need to reach Elite levels, and core strength needs to be Super Elite. This will remove the limitations on fadeaway and turnaround fadeaway jump shots," the system explained.
"Got it."
The requirements weren't crazy. His flexibility and balance were both at 86, meaning he only needed to boost them by 8 points to hit first-class. His core strength, though, would need to jump by 8 points as well, which wasn't doable right now.
In short, he couldn't pick physically demanding moves like the turnaround fadeaway or any of Jordan's elite techniques—yet.
Zhao Dong decided to save Jordan's skill for next season, once his attributes were leveled up. For now, he needed to pick a skill he could fully max out.
The closer to the rim, the higher the shooting percentage. He needed a skill that was efficient, didn't require insane physical attributes, and was currently low-level.
The floater, hook shot, lob, bank shot, and straight-arm jumper were all on the table.
He thought of Duncan, who was about to enter the draft. That guy's bank shot kept him dominant in the low post for two decades. Should Zhao Dong follow suit?
The bank shot had a higher accuracy than the floater or hook, but it required shooting closer to the backboard.
Zhao Dong shook his head. He wasn't Duncan. As a small forward, he played more outside and on the move. A bank shot wasn't as practical for him.
The hook shot? Nope. It was more suited for bigs with insane wingspans.
The lob? Now that had range and flexibility, perfect for a forward who played on the move. It was better than the hook, which needed a height advantage he didn't have.
"System, I'll max out the floater—" he started but paused. "Wait, can I max out the skyhook?"
"No," the system replied. "The host's shooting height is insufficient. Even with upgraded balance and other qualities, the Sky Hook cannot be maxed out."
"Damn, you're clowning my height now?" Zhao Dong muttered. "What about the hook or lob? Same deal?"
"Correct. The hook and lob also require Elite balance attributes," the system confirmed.
"Shit. What about the bank shot?"
"Bank shots can be maxed out," the system replied.
"Alright, I'll hold off then," Zhao Dong muttered. "If Ewing goes down next season, I'll need to carry the Knicks solo. That'll be the perfect time to cash in on a big upgrade."
He decided to skip upgrading rebounding moves—those were for Duncan. Zhao Dong was an outside player and needed skills that complemented his perimeter game.
He opened his player profile:
Physical Attributes:
Injury Resistance: 100
Vertical: 97
Coordination: 96
Stamina: 95
Speed: 90
Balance: 86
Flexibility: 86
Strength: 88
Technical Skills:
Basic:
Ball Handling: 95
Shooting: 93
Passing: 86
Offense:
Pull-Up Jumper: 95
Turnaround Jumper: 95
Dribble Drive: 95
Step-Back Jumper: 90
Low-Post Scoring: 90
Spot-Up Jumper: 76
Hook Shot: 76
Floater: 76
Straight-Arm Jumper: 70
Bank Jumper: 60
Turnaround Jumper: 50
Turnaround Step-Back: 55
Off-Ball Cuts: 83
Movement: 75
Defense:
Perimeter Defense: 95
Interior Defense: 90
Rebounding: 99
Blocks: 91
Steals: 90
Playmaking:
Vision: 99
Unclaimed Rewards:
Any one of Jordan's basketball skills
Max out any of his own skills
Gold Medal Skills:
Low-Post Scoring: 90 – Weakens defender's impact by 10%-30%, boosts scoring success by 5%-15%.
Pull-Up Jumper: 95 – Boosts shooting stability by 30%, increases separation chance by 30%.
Turnaround Jumper: 95 – Improves shooting stability by 30%, raises separation chance by 30%.
Dribble Drive: 95 – Increases blow-by and double-team escape by 30%.
Zhao Dong tapped on Injury Resistance, and a prompt popped up:
> "Human Limit Break Effect: 100% immunity to fatal injuries, 99% immunity to severe injuries, 90% immunity to moderate injuries, 80% immunity to minor injuries."
"Holy shit!" Zhao Dong grinned. "I can stay in peak shape till I'm 40 with this!"
He checked the clock. It was 8 PM. He turned on ESPN. The NBA Draft Lottery was about to start.
An hour later, the results were in—the Spurs, who tanked all season, secured the No. 1 pick.
"Ha! Perfect timing. I just sniped the Bulls' dynasty, now it's the Spurs' turn. Hey, Admiral, you better start hugging my thigh!" Zhao Dong laughed, seeing history stay on track.
The Spurs would soon grab Tim Duncan, and they'd dominate the late 90s. After that, the Shaq-Kobe Lakers dynasty was next. All prime targets for sniping.
The next morning, Zhao Dong rolled out of bed at 8 AM after a solid 10-hour sleep.
After breakfast, he hit the gym for a light workout. At 10 AM, his phone rang.
"Hello?"
It was Ernie Grunfeld, and the news was brutal.
"Zhao, bad news. Ewing slipped in the shower at 1 AM. Tore his ACL. He's out for the Finals," Grunfeld said grimly.
"Are you kidding me?!" Zhao Dong roared. "System, you bastard! Your prediction was spot on! Ewing, you clumsy fool! What the hell were you doing showering at 1 AM?!"
He was sure Ewing had been fooling around the night before—no way he'd be taking a shower that late otherwise.
Zhao Dong didn't feel sorry for him at all. Ewing had doubted him in the beginning and only caved for the championship. Now? Karma hit him hard.
Zhao Dong smirked. "Guess you're destined to watch us win from a hospital bed."
Without Ewing, the Knicks' odds took a hit, but Zhao Dong wasn't too worried. The Jazz were strong, but not unbeatable.
Utah's strength came from Stockton's playmaking and Karl Malone's scoring and rebounding.
But Zhao Dong had playmaking skills on par with Stockton and could dominate Malone.
Malone's game? Physical post-ups, mid-range scoring, and elite rebounding.
Zhao Dong? Faster, stronger, and more athletic. Malone couldn't guard him.
On defense, Zhao Dong could easily harass Malone. Without the Mailman space, his efficiency would plummet.
Beating Malone on both ends would kill the Jazz's game plan by 70%. Stockton alone couldn't save them.
Zhao Dong immediately dialed Oakley.
"Yo, Charles, was Ewing at home last night?"
"Hell no! That fool was out late. He was so excited about the Finals, he couldn't keep it in his pants!" Oakley barked.
"Damn, playing with his wife until 1 AM? They must have one hell of a relationship," Zhao Dong snickered.
"Pfft! Haha! You savage, Dong! You're cold, man!" Oakley burst out laughing.
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